


What Fools These Mortals Be

by dramady, edonyx



Category: American Idol RPF, brad bell - Fandom, cassidy haley - Fandom, cheeks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-04
Updated: 2010-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/edonyx/pseuds/edonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> But of course, a queer would-be superstar needs a faerie on his shoulder! Who doesn't?</p><p><b>Authors' Notes</b>: Kinda cracky, kinda AU-y. <a href="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y155/Dramady/fools.jpg">Edonyx's amazing art</a>.</p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Fools These Mortals Be

As Cassidy sits bent over his desk, sketching idly when he should be doing, which is, for the record, paying bills, his head in his hand, a very small person (not technically a person, but you get the idea), appears on his shoulder. By 'very small,' we mean three inches tall max, though he sits on Cassidy's shoulder, tiny legs crossed, tiny wings fluttering, creating a barely audible buzz.

He has a name you can't pronounce, so you can call him Brad. And he shakes his head and says, "how are you going to become a superstar if you don't stay on task? Really." Tsk-tsk!

Cassidy makes a surprised noise and swats at what's talking in his ear. For a second, he can't even tell if the voice is male or female, but it's _close_ and it's _on him._ "What the-?" He could have sworn he'd heard a voice, but he's fairly certain he'd heard the hum of wings, like a hummingbird. Who hums. "Who's there?" Cassidy's preoccupied with the fact that Rawn didn't confirm for the band meeting, and he's got a stack of mail that has to be sent out to his Captains, too. And bills to pay. But there's an outfit half-sketched, broad shoulders with a cape and a stiff collar. He could be a superhero. Except for this voice!

"Why is that always the first thing your kind asks? Why not 'how do I best do what you think is best, oh wise one?'" Brad sighs, fluttering over Cassidy's head to avoid being swatted again, thank you very much! "Is it because I'm small? I can make myself larger if that makes it easier to take me seriously."

And _POOF_.

Suddenly in the middle of Cassidy's loft is a (well, still short) lithe being with big brown eyes and brown hair, dressed in a babydoll t-shirt and leggings, complete with dimpled grin. "There. Better?" His arms are wide. _Ta-da!_

Cassidy holds his hands up, a warding-off gesture to this... boy? Creature? _Fairy?!_ That's suddenly appeared in his loft. "I don't even know what you are and you want me to take you seriously. How'd you get in here?" Whatever this thing is, it's cute as _hell_, and Cassidy's waiting for it to like, gnaw his face off as soon as he lets his guard down.

Cue eyerolling. A tremendous entrance _wasted_. Brad puts his hands on his hips. "It's too difficult for you to understand, trust me. So. You have a Six Month Plan. How's that working for you, hmm?"

"Let's go back for a second. What are you?" Cassidy mirrors the posture, not on purpose, but out of shock. "Are you seriously a fairy? Did you fly in my window to _motivate_ me? Where'd your wings go?" It was _completely_ a tremendous entrance, and that's why Cassidy's reacting the way he is. "Do you have a name? So I don't have to call you 'it' in my head?"

"Fine. My name is - " And Brad rattles off something with a series of vowels that make no sense to the human ear, hand twirling in the air. "But you can call me Brad. And when I'm this size, I'm glamm'd so that you can't see my wings. There. Happy? Your turn. Six Month Plan. Progress Report."

"Cassidy, human. Nice to meet you, Brad?" And what does Brad know about the Six Month Plan, and why does he want a progress report? "Are you going to help me with my six month plan?" Cassidy's sure to keep a good distance between himself and this pixie-fairy boy, still trying to process the fact that Brad's actually real. "Do you, uh. Want a bottle of water or something?"

"No thanks. We eat flower petals. In case, you know, you were curious. Which I know you are, don't lie!" With a tinkling laugh, Brad comes over, bopping a fingertip on the tip of Cassidy's nose. "I've _been_ helping you with your plan, but you keep ... " He gestures at the drawing on the table. "... getting lost. What's up with that?"

"You eat flower petals," Cassidy echoes, monotone. "I think my roommate's got some gerberas in the other room?" For some reason, Brad with the many voweled name smells... kind of like strawberries. He gets a good sniff when that fingertip comes down on his nose, and for a second, Cassidy thinks he's going to sneeze. "How long have you been helping me, then? Where've you been? How come I never saw you before?" He covers the drawing before turning his attention back to the fairy. "I don't think about it 24/7, by the way. I'm allowed to doodle. I'm doing a ustream chat tonight with the Captains to see what's going on where."

"Uh-huh. Building a Strong Team, that's good." Brad twirls away and goes over to the desk to pick up the drawing. "Thinking about being a superhero? Not quite as useful, silly. Superheroes aren't _real_." Like, apparently, faeries are. He plops himself down on the desk like he had on Cassidy's shoulder. "I've been here from the start. I was _subtle_. But more intervention was deemed necessary. Ta-da!" Again with the arms thrown wide and a wide, dimpled smile.

Okay. This is just too weird for words. Cassidy goes into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, and three gerberas from Barbie's plant to take back into his study. "Here, these are for you. And you're gonna sit down and tell me what you've been doing and what kind of intervention you're staging. Because I'm curious." The words might sound serious, but let's suspend disbelief for a minute and find out what little cutie-faerie has in mind. "Wouldn't you be considered a superhero of some kind?"

"Who _me?_" Brad scoffs as he takes the flowers, twirling them in his fingers. He won't eat them though, they make him _gassy_. Ew. "I'm no _super_ hero. Is it okay if I continue sitting here? Or!"

In a blink, he's on top of the piano, on his back. "There. That's better. Now, you asked what I was doing. Well, I can't tell you. I can just tell you that you've -- well, you're not as far along as we would like you to be frankly, Cassidy. You're already a month in and all you have to show for it is 'reasons you'd rather not go into.' You need to focus."

"There's so much that these guys are doing for me! And I've been meeting with A&amp;R reps, too. Too gay, too this, too that." Cassidy sighs, plonking down into a chair. "Are you my faerie godfather?" There's something appealing about Brad's posture, about the way he talks, the way he _laughs_, and for someone who just sort of appeared in his room, Cassidy's interested in what else he has to say. "And the drawings are for costumes, by the way. For performances."

"Mmhmm, of course they are." Brad's hands are painting patterns in the air. "You're cute. I love that you're still dreamy and optimistic. So many who reach your age are all jaded and _twisty_." His head lolls to the side so he can look at Cassidy. "Don't worry about the 'too gay' thing. That's being dealt with. Your friend is helping there. I know, I know, he's a mixed blessing, but in this way, blessing. So focus on what you can control. We have to make you a star, after all."

"Adam." That makes Cassidy laugh. Of course, Adam's got his glitter all over everything right now! "Faeries come to those who dream, right? Aren't you hungry? Because my roommate's going to have my head for cutting her flowers so I could give my new friend a snack. Be little again and come here?" Cassidy holds out a hand, flashing Brad a white, even smile. "If you're going to help me, then I want to actually see you tiny. It was kind of cute, once I figured out you weren't a mosquito or a vulture."

"Mosquito or vulture? Really? Honestly." But the faerie sighs and _boop!_ He's teeny again and comes over to stand in Cassidy's hand. No Tinkerbell jokes. He sounds the same, though as he stands with his feet spread. The flowers are still on the piano now - too big don'tcha know. "Gerbera and I don't agree. Sorry!"

"I had no idea! I heard the hum of your wings and the voice, and it scared the _shit_ out of me." Cassidy holds Brad up so they're eye level, all but enthralled with how _tiny_ he is now, how he stands easily on Cassidy's palm, wings as delicate as tissue and rainbow-iridescent. _Aren't you pretty!_ Cassidy thinks, and sets him down on the arm of the chair. No Tinkerbell jokes, no way. He's too stunned by the fact that he's got a _twinkerbell_ of his very own! "So, Brad. If you're going to help, let's have a meeting. Tell me where I need to focus."

So by the time they're done, there is a _list_. With words on it! Things! For Cassidy to do! It's a good list too. Brad sprinkles some dust on it (he doesn't call it faerie dust because he's a faerie, okay? It would be like a human calling human dust "human dust," see?) But then he brushes his hands together as he stands on Cassidy's desk and says, "my work here is done for now. Can I trust you to work on your own?"

"What, you aren't going to stay and keep me company? I was just getting used to the idea of having a faerie around to help me with things." Cassidy holds his hand out to Brad again to climb on, and looks at him. "What would I do to keep you here? Or do you have to go and pollinate flowers or something in your spare time?" Yeah, Brad definitely smells like strawberries, tart and sweet at the same time. "Yes, you can trust me to work on my own. It's just that there's so much coming at me that I get lost in it sometimes, you know?"

"I know you do." Wings buzzing, Brad flies up to be face to face with Cassidy before landing on his hand. "I have things to do, people to see. But you just need to call me if you need me. BUT! Don't abuse it. Or I get pissy. And trust me, pissy faerie? Not fun." And with that, he blows a kiss and is gone.

"Do I get your cell number?" Cassidy asks, just as Brad disappears. Oh well. He picks up the list and looks at it, then sits at his laptop to type it out and send the parts that his Army can do out to them. But he doesn't tell them where he came up with the ideas, the directions, because to be a fairy is one thing, but to have a faerie is another.

***

He sits at Gladys with a bottle of blueberry wine by his hip, feeling... pretty sorry for himself. He's had a rough day: another meeting, another opportunity to get shot down. And what does Adam have that Cassidy doesn't have? Cassidy has: Sex appeal? Check. Talent? Check (he hopes). Personality? Definitely check. So what _is_ it? "Spin the spindle," he sings to himself. "Spin the spindle."

Seriously?

Seriously.

Oh, Cassidy, really.

There's only so much a faerie can take. Blueberry wine? Definitely over the line of acceptable self-pity behavior.

The music that was resting on the piano falls off as if caught by an errant breeze, dancing around Cassidy's head for a moment before fluttering to the floor.

"Brad?" Cassidy asks, turning on the bench, nearly knocking over the bottle. Oh, damn. But he catches it before it can tip, and brings it up for a mouthful before setting it on the floor. "Come on, lemme see you, okay? No need to push my music around..."

What's that on the floor by the music, though? What _is_ that. Hmm. It looks like a fortune from a fortune cookie. Don't take away all of Brad's fun, Cassidy! He's not a genie. He's a _faerie_. Sheesh.

When Cassidy bends down to pick it up, the fortune says, _Your heart will always make itself known through your words._

Cool, huh? Spin your spindle around _that_.

Cassidy smiles at the little piece of paper and sits it down on the bench seat of his piano. He takes a picture and tweets it, with the message _when we can't find the way, sometimes the way finds us._ Then it goes into his wallet to be kept safe until he sees that little faerie again. The wine is put away so maybe Cassidy can write something new, fresh, except... he's sort of drunk and his fingers don't come down on the keys the way he wants. Let's abandon _that_ idea for a little bit, okay? He slouches out in his favourite chair with a pencil and paper in front of him, sketching out the rough outline of wings.

***

Cassidy looks so _peaceful_ when he's sleeping! Too bad that Brad has to get right in his ear and blare as loud as he can, "_wake up! You're late!_" And really, he's a faerie. He's allowed to laugh his teeny ass off at the look on Cassidy's face. He is! He's not an _angel_ for pete's sake.

For a moment, Cassidy thinks it's his alarm clock, and much like the first time he'd met Brad, he swats a hand out to squish the noise. Then he realizes it's a _voice_ and catches himself. "Whoa, sorry. Just... don't wake me up like that! What am I late for?"

"For the rest of your life, silly!" Human-sized, Brad sits in a clothes-strewn chair against the wall of Cassidy's room. "You have to get up, you have to work out and play that piano in the lobby, of course. You have to make some _decisions_ today! You've been putting them off!"

Cassidy flops back on the bed for a minute, thinking something like _five more minutes_ before pushing himself up on an elbow, the sheets down around his hips, to peer across the room at Brad. "That's not a good way to wake anyone up. Are you going to come to the gym with me and count my reps? Will you spot me?" Now there's a smile, just a little one, because his mouth sort of tastes like something unmentionable and Cassidy needs to a) brush his teeth and b) have a _lot_ of coffee. "Do I just go and start playing? I'm thinking I should at least ask, first."

"Why ask? What's the worst they can tell you to do, stop? Oh no!" Getting to his feet, Brad starts to sift through Cassidy's clothes, finding a tank top that's not got Amanda Palmer's face on it (Hiss!) and a pair of shorts. "Should I have climbed into bed with you and kissed you good morning?" He throws a wink over his shoulder. "I'll remember that for next time."

"Yeah, keep that in mind." Cassidy pushes the sheets back and swings his legs out, taking the clothes from Brad so he can take them in the bathroom to have a shower. If Brad's a faerie, then he shouldn't care that Cassidy's naked. Because he's kind of getting over his naked phase, except when he sleeps. And showers, of course. "Are you going to keep me company? Or is it just going to look like I'm talking to myself in here?"

"Is someone else watching you? I should be your only faerie. At least faerie like me!" Brad jokes. He kills himself; so funny! But he does appear on the vanity of Cassidy's bathroom. "I have to say ... you have a great ass. I mean, as human asses go."

"Are you a connoisseur? A purveyor of asses?" Cassidy pulls the shower curtain across and starts the water, and yeah, this is the best way to start the day. "I liked the fortune, by the way. I put it up on my twitter. You know what Twitter is, right?" His hair gets a quick lather, and then Cassidy washes the rest of himself down, silhouette blurry but still discernible through the curtain. "It's just... this isn't as easy as I thought it would be. I keep thinking of Adam, you know? And that I'm being compared to him."

"I know," Brad croons. "That sucks. He's - you know - _everywhere_. But if it helps? He's got like _tons_ of help. No lie. There's like fifty of us for him. Which, don't even get me started, right? _Crazy!_" The last word comes out all sing-song. "This is better. More _intimate_. You can jerk off if you feel the urge. I don't mind."

Cassidy goes _entirely_ still, just for a moment, then starts _laughing._ "How long have you been watching me, anyway?" The curtain peeks open so Cassidy can flick water at Brad. "_Fifty_ of you? Like, do you work to make gay people famous? Is that what faeries do?" _Fifty._ Oh, Adam. And thinking about Adam makes Cass _not_ want to jerk off, thanks very much. "Give me that towel, huh? And tell me why you got stuck with me instead of Adam."

"Wow, look at how assume-y you are! Get your own towel, I'm not a handservant." No, Brad is too busy fiddling with nail clippers; fascinating! "Okay, crash course in faeriedom. I saw you when you were _wee_ little. Totally cute. 'He will go on to great things!' Ta-da, here I am. We are not just for the gays, we are all about equality and beauty. So. Oh, and you can never tell when we're lying or telling the truth." There's that sunny grin again! "Besides, don't you consider yourself queer? Or did your bi-ness go on vacation again?"

"Oh, fantastic. A faerie godfather who's going to lie to me." Cassidy rolls his eyes and steps out onto the bathmat, hooking the towel from the side of the sink to give himselfl a rubdown and then tuck around his hips. "You were actually told I'd go on to great things?" That's... oddly reassuring, considering that faeries are a thing of fantasy, really. Except now Cass has found that they're real, he's got one helping him, and Adam has an _army_ of them. Well, Cassidy has an Army of real people! "It's on vacation right now. Just like the queer goes on vacation now and then, too. Why?" Cassidy flashes a pointy grin at Brad. "You interested in some human ass?"

"Against the rules." And Brad's pout is exaggerated and playful. "Just remember. If things don't work out, it's not the end of the world. Get dressed already! We're late!" He boops down to his tiny size and plops himself onto Cassidy's shoulder. "We've got lots to do today!"

The shorts and tank top go on (hi Amanda! Love you!), and Cassidy's careful not to smush three-inch-Brad with his clothes. "Okay, okay, I'm ready! We have to stop by Starbucks first, and then we're hitting the gym." He grabs his bag and stuffs his feet into his runners. "Then I've gotta call Rawn and see what his lazy ass is doing, and get band practice going." His list is as much for himself as it is to inform Brad that he's not late for _anything_, thank you very much! But- "Okay, what? You mean, if I wanted to, and you were allowed, we could-? _Really._ For some reason I thought you just pollinated each other, like flowers." Blame the wine, but yes, Cassidy had thought about how faeries would fuck. Shush.

"Pollinate? You're so cute! No," Brad informs him. "We do it. And it's _fantastic_. Onward!"

As Cassidy starts down the stairs, keys in hand (Honestly, the boy and his keys), Brad natters on. "Rawn needs to get serious. I was tempted to send a boggart at him, but knowing him, he'd eat it and then ... well, you don't know what would happen then. But the boy needs to get serious. What is it you humans say? Shit or get off the pot? That! Ooh, look at her," he says, once they're out on the street. "She really shouldn't be wearing leggings. Like ... ever. Phoo!"

Cassidy's fairly certain that even though _he_ can hear Brad, nobody else can, so he has to duck his head and hide his laughter. "Rawn's making me nervous," he admits, fitting his bluetooth in his ear so it doesn't look like he's _completely_ insane. "He goofs off during the meetings, puts up messages on the ustreams that he thinks are funny, and just _doesn't listen._ He's a great guy, you know? He's my friend. But yeah, shit or get off the pot." Oh lord, those leggings are _hideous._ Not to mention the legs they're on, whew. Phoo! Like Brad just said. _Cute._ After a quick stop at Starbucks, he's off to the gym with Brad still on his shoulder, and god, there's the piano. _There_ it is. "Should I?"

"Of _course_ you should! We should only regret what we _didn't_ not what we did do! Play, maestro! Play!" Brad even claps his hands together. "Cassidy's going to play a song on the piano! Then he'll tweet about it and all his fans will cheer him! Take control, Mr. Haley! The world is waiting!"

Laughing, Cassidy sits down at the piano. Today, it's uncovered, and it's _gorgeous._ The question is, what should he play? This is what he asks Brad, whose clapping even sounds tiny and adorable. Shut up, he likes the idea of having a faerie around! Damn right he'll tweet about it, and the awesome fans he's got will tell him he's also awesome. And maybe he'll tweet a drawing he's been working on of wings like gossamer, framed in delicately worked metal so they're light. So they're human-sized. Pixie wings are cute, but Cassidy would like to see them-

-well, his focus shouldn't really be on the faerie on his shoulder; it should be on his music, and the way it's coming out of this piano that he shouldn't be playing at all. But god, it sounds _so good._ He wishes someone was recording it.

The atrium is open and tall and the sound echoes around them and draws the attention of the people going in and out. "See?" Brad says, right in Cassidy's ear. "See? I told you. You're _gorgeous_!"

Even when the employee comes over, he's apologetic as he tells Cassidy thank you but he'll ask him to stop. And by then, Brad is gone, for now at least.

But Brad gave Cassidy the courage to sit down in the first place, so he stands with a smile and an apology of his own, shutting the lid on the piano keys. He goes to his workout, hits the shower, comes home, and sits at Gladys, inspired. _You're gorgeous!_

He writes three songs, music, words, everything.

***

"So, how do you feel about being on camera?" Cassidy asks, lying on his bed. "You're part of my Six Month Plan. You can just be... a friend of mine. I figure if you're helping me, then you deserve some kind of credit. Plus, I want to take you out drinking because you're adorable. And you've helped." Cassidy even has buttercups that he picked up on the way home from the studio this afternoon, for Brad to snack on.

Buttercups! YUM. Brad has one by the stem and is taking tiny nibbles from the petals. "Okay, first, if we go drinking, I will drink you under the table. Fae are _notorious_ for that. Fair warning. And nix on the camera idea, babydoll. We won't show up on film. Then you'll just look _crazy_!" Again in that sing-songy tone. "But it's sweet to offer. You're such a sweetie."

"So that means you're coming with me. Is it way out of line to introduce you as my date?" Now Cassidy's _grinning,_ and he sits up to look at Brad. "I can even whip you up something to wear, if you want. A Cassidy Haley Original! So you're not wearing... that." Not that there's anything wrong with how Brad's dressed, unless he _wants_ to get picked out as a faerie instead of a fairy. "I know exactly where we can go, too."

The usual winsome grin, though, fades from Brad's face and he cocks his head. "You know no one else can see me, right? Unless we went to an inter-realm inn and those aren't easy to get to, trust me." He sits, human-sized, on the edge of Cassidy's bed. "There's no one for you to introduce me to."

"I thought... when you were normal sized..." Cass scratches the side of his head and tries not to look _too_ disappointed. "I can still make you things, right? Or will it show up as clothes without a body?" Wow, when Brad isn't smiling, he looks _very_ sad, all big brown eyes and pretty mouth. Nope, can't look at him like that. It's Against The Rules.

"I'm, ummmm, how's the best way to describe it? I'm your secret. Like ... you can't see your friend's fae, right? So ... I mean, if you try on your clothes, you'll see me in them?" Brad shrugs. "But someone else won't. There are exceptions sometimes? ... but not often." And he looks _really_ sad for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"You're my secret," Cassidy says, and he sounds sad, too. He sweeps his papers together and shuffles them into a neat-ish pile before getting off the bed. Goddamn his heart. "I'm going to see if I can get everyone together for a meeting. I'll see you when you want to show up again. Thanks for your help." He crosses the room and bends to press a kiss to Brad's cheek.

For a moment, Brad sits there, and he tilts his cheek up for the kiss before he watches Cassidy walk away.

Ooops.

Then, with a soft _bloop_, he's gone.

~~

It's nearly two weeks before Brad appears again and when he does, he's human sized and he's _panting_. "Okay!" He huffs out. "Okay. You will never _believe_ how many strings I had to pull. Trust me. So." He points at Cassidy. "If you _really_ want me to drink you under the table in a human bar, I can go with you. BUT! You have work to do first, mister!"

What the hell? What kind of strings did Brad have to pull where he's _that_ out of breath? Had it been that much of an issue? "Fair trade," he agrees, as if he'd only seen Brad an hour or two before. "When did you want to go and get me hammered? Just so I know how long I have to make an outfit for you and everything." There's a sparkle in his eyes that says that he's excited for whatever strings Brad pulled. He's taking his faerie out!

"Well, since you're talking couture, then I guess it won't be tonight. One week, Cassidy Haley. And we shall go out." Brad did a little pirouette, brushing the sweat away from his hairline. "Now. Tell me about what you've been up to. Even though I know, I want to hear you _say it_. Announce it to the world! I'm Cassidy Haley, bitches!"

"I'm Cassidy Haley, bitches!" That makes Cassidy laugh, and he even does this hip-jab thing where he looks totally fierce for a fraction of a second. Just a fraction. Because it's late and he's in old stretchy pants, barefoot and bare-chested, and it's hard to look fierce when he looks like a slob. "So how do I call you if I want to see you? Because I'm going to need to fit you for your hot outfit. Do you like lilies? Barbie brought some back from the grocery this morning and I don't think she'll miss one." God, she'd given Cassidy _shit_ for the gerberas, after finding them untouched (and uneaten) on Gladys.

"Lilies? _Poisonous!_" Honestly, Cassidy. "I'm always around," Brad reminds him, twirling around before landing in a heap on Cassidy's bed. "I can make an appointment though. But you haven't worked yet. No dates until you show me the money!"

"I _am_ working! I've got dates booked in Texas, and I've got a couple of people in Canada doing shirt designs for me, and Tor's been amazing. Everyone's been amazing, seriously. What do you want, money in hand? Kate's doing what she can, and I've been in the studio." Cassidy parks himself on the bed beside Brad on his side, leaned up on an elbow to look down at his own little secret. "Tell me what flowers you like, then. Your favourites." Cassidy Haley, watch your heart, it's going to get you in trouble. Brad isn't even _real._

"I _love_ jasmine, yum!" Brad even squiggles a little bit. "Have you gotten that Rawn in line, mm? And your tour is soon! You have to be ready!" But before he can go on, the door to the bedroom opens and Blaise pokes his head in.

"Who're you talking to?"

"My computer?" For a second, Cassidy looks a little bit terrified that he's coming across as cray-cray, as a certain Glittery Rock Star has liked to say. "I was looking at an email from someone and was talking to it so I could get the words right before, uh, typing it out?" But his computer's over on the desk and he's lying on the bed, and Brad gets a flashed _HELP!_ look before Cassidy goes over to his computer and shuts it. "What're you doing walking into my room late at night? I could have been masturbating or something."

"If you were masturbating and talking to yourself, you're worse off than talking to your computer. Across the room." Pushing his glasses up on his face, Blaise leans against the doorjamb. But behind him there's a _crash_ and he turns around. "What was that?"

There's another crash. Funny, Brad isn't anywhere to be found, at least not in Cassidy's room.

"I said I _could_ have been." Brad is apparently a lifesaver as well as a faerie and the object of affection that Cassidy shouldn't feel. "It sounded like it was coming from your room," Cass volunteers, hoping Blaise will _go away._

"Crap." And with that, Blaise goes back to where he came from and Brad appears on Cassidy's bed again, daintily wiping his hands, looking _very innocent_.

"That was fun."

"What'd you knock over out there?" Cassidy asks, shutting his bedroom door again. He's done a lot of fantasy reading, and he knows that in fiction, faeries are supposed to be beautiful and funny and mischievous, but to see it in person, to experience it, has Cassidy thinking troubled thoughts. Falling in love is something that's too easy for Cassidy, and he always ends up getting his heart broken. And to maybe love something that nobody else can see is... well, it's not good. Not at all. "Get comfortable. Stay a while."

Something like a shadow runs across Brad's features before he blinks it away. Reaching up, he touches Cassidy's cheek, just briefly before letting his hand drop. "Who keeps a tool chest in their bedroom anyway. So. Tell me about the couture you're going to make for me, mm."

"Blaise does, apparently." Cassidy shrugs, trying not to let his face heat from Brad's little touch. It's because Brad's working with Cassidy to make him a star, not because of anything like affection. Can faeries love? Do they? "I want to make you something special. That's all I can tell you. And that it's going to be so amazing you'll wish you were human for real." It's not an unfair wish, is it?

There's one of those gentle smiles again and Brad nods just before he disappears again. But two days later, on the big wall calendar that Cassidy keeps is scrawled in shaky capital letters, _FITIN_. After all, fae aren't known for their spelling ability.

_Fitin_? Cassidy mulls over the word for a good fifteen minutes before figuring out that Brad wants a _fitting_. That makes sense! The day of the fitting, he goes out and buys an entire jasmine plant, complete with instructions on how to look after it. Ugh, he's in so much trouble. He's in deep, and there's no good reason for it. He _knows_ this. But he can't help but tweet something like _jasmine smells like lovers_ as he gets the plant set up and has his fitting torso ready with the basic outfit that he's made for Brad. Of course, it'll be embellished, but right now, the essential piece is done.

And of course, Brad is right on time, _bloop_ing into place right behind Cassidy's shoulder. "So that's it, huh?" But almost like a dog, then, his nose in the air. "Do I smell _jasmine_?! You're my _favorite!_" He twirls around until he finds it and makes a beeline over. "_Oh!_"

"Not yet!" Cassidy laughs, slapping Brad's hands away. "You have to wait for them to bloom. They're night bloomers! I even did some research on them so you'll have something to munch on whenever you're here. Have a look at the outfit so far, tell me what you think?" It's creamy-white leather with a series of little holes poked in it in an asymmetrical line from one side of the collar, across the chest, nearly down to the waist. A chain of sorts, where the delicious details will go once the piece is totally complete. The pants are narrow at the hips and thighs, flaring out at the bottom to cover Brad's feet once he's in them. "Try it on?"

Reaching out, Brad touches the leather, holding it between his fingers. "This is _nice_," he nearly purrs out. "You have to turn your back, though. You can't see me when I'm naked. The glamor's off and ... well, you can't."

"You're just shy." Cassidy turns his back, though, and even goes as far as covering his eyes. "Once it's on though, I've gotta do adjustments, to make sure it fits you absolutely right." Brad loves the outfit. He loves the jasmine. If only he- "Tell me when you're ready."

There's the sound of rustling material, of footfalls on the floor before Brad says, "okay, you can turn around now." He's spinning slowly, arms out, checking himself out in the mirror, before giving Cassidy a grin. "I saw this on some television show of yours." He spins again, slowly, then gestures at nothing, smiling all the while. "Yes?"

"_Yes._ You look gorgeous in it." It makes Brad look like he's glowing, and Cassidy can see where the leaves will go, where the wings will attach. This is _his_ faerie, and he's going to make him feel... well, Cassidy's not sure how he wants to make Brad feel. But he wants to show his faerie how _he_ feels, even if it's without words. How he's glad he's got the extra help, and maybe, how he's fallen for Brad.

When Cassidy steps closer, Brad tips his chin up to follow his face, to watch his expressions, his own brows drawn together in concentration. "You're good at making clothes, but it doesn't please you any more, in general, though you're happy now. Why?"

"Because it's hard seeing the people I made clothes for having what they want, when I've only dreamed about it. I've had so many chances that are _this close_, and it's not enough. So I gave up making clothes and started to try and make myself. Step up?" He gestures at an ottoman, so he can check the cuffs of the pants, and the fit around the hips. Brad's _tiny_, and it was hard to judge, even with a little bit of measuring and a _lot_ of guesswork.

Brad stands on the ottoman, spreading his legs, hands on his hips. "And what ifffff ... hypothetically speaking ... you never become famous-famous. Would your life be less complete?" When Cassidy touches him, though, he can feel Brad go still. Very still.

"I'll have tried, and there's no failure in trying. Failure is wishing for something and not doing it at all." Cassidy's words are just a little bit absent as he feels around for Brad's ankles and hems the pants accordingly. At first, his touch is all business up Brad's legs, but by the time they reach his hips, Cassidy's face might look a little bit flushed. "Lift the shirt up for me, a little? I need to see how it fits around... here." His hands gesture at the whole area of hips, pelvis and ass. "And I've gotta check your inseam to make sure they're not too tight. Or that they're gonna split if you sit down."

"... okay." And yes, Brad's voice is a little breathy there. He holds the hem of the shirt and pulls it up. Underneath, Cassidy is sure to notice that Brad has no body hair, just smooth, pale skin; he doesn't even have a belly button! If Cassidy looks up, he can see Brad chew on his lower lip.

It's weird that Brad doesn't have a belly button, because it raises all these questions about how faeries reproduce. And that's not a sexy thought to have, not that Cassidy should be having sexy thoughts at _all._ Okay? Okay. But in measuring how the pants fit around Brad's hips (just fine, for the record, the two-finger rule is firmly in place), Cassidy finds himself leaning in to touch his mouth to that smooth, strawberry-scented skin, just up and to the right of the fly of the pants. Brad's skin is warm, sweet against the faint dart of tongue that dampens Cassidy's lips.

He's rewarded with a gasped-in breath and Brad's fingers card through Cassidy's hair, fingertips rubbing against the scalp for a moment, then away. "... w-what are you doing, Cassidy?" Brad asks, sincere curiosity coloring his tone with a dose of uncertainty for spice and something else, there, too.

_Shit. Fuck._ Cassidy realizes what he's doing and pulls back, but even that motion is uncertain. "Something I shouldn't have done. Don't mind me, I'm just being queer." Now he's sure to keep his touches as brief and light as they can be, and finally, straightens. "Okay. I'm going to turn my back. You can take it off, now."

"But - " On the ottoman Brad stands, though, his hands loose at his sides. Hmm. "Are we still going to go out?" He asks. After all, he did pull a lot of strings. A symphony of strings. "Do you want to kiss me? Is that what it is?"

"I already did." And boy, there's some heavy regret in Cassidy's voice. "I need to put the details on it before we can go. And I've gotta get dressed, too." He turns away, chewing on the inside of his cheek, tasting Brad's skin on his lips. "Don't you know what time it is?" Because nobody actually goes _out_ until at least eleven. That's what, three hours away? The jasmine's getting ready to bloom, supposedly, and that's why he got them. So they'd open when Brad was here.

"Of course I know what time it is." And Brad rolls off a series of words that roughly translate into, well, not-human time. He's got his head cocked to the side, though, watching Cassidy, even as he strips and puts back on the Hello Kitty shirt he arrived in, and the leggings. Then he can make himself small and fly over to land on Cassidy's shoulder. "What's up, buttercup?"

Cassidy turns his head, and he's smiling. A for-real smile, because Brad's pretty fucking adorable when he's little. "Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm going to fit it all together. Go and have some flowers and I'll get this thing ready for you." Gently, he pushes Brad away with his fingertip, toward the plant. He'd read that a faerie loves a well-made outfit, but would get completely offended if it was awful. So far, so good. "There's some wine in that glass if you want some. Just don't fall in."

"Have I ever struck you as clumsy? Please." But as Brad buzzes over to check on the state of the Jasmine (bliss!), he _might_ take a few sips of the wine. It's not as good as what you can get at home, but what is? As luck would have it, the jasmine _does_ bloom before they go out, and Brad is practically _beaming_ as he nibbles, little bit by little bit.

It makes Cassidy laugh as he finishes the outfit, leaving Brad to get changed into it while he jumps in the shower and gets himself ready. Hair's done first, the side buzzed back fresh, the long part spikey, eyes shadowed dark, and he dresses in a white shirt and black pants, fastening on straps and holsters from the stuff he'd done with Katie and Jonny. "So?" It's Cassidy's turn to spin. "Do you approve, faerie godfather? Or am I going to turn into a pumpkin later?"

"Oh. My." If Cassidy looks at Brad closely enough, he'll see him as different. More ... solid, the texture of his skin more _there_ than before. It was those pulled strings. But Brad walks over and runs his finger along Cassidy's shoulders, which are, of course, very broad, and Brad ends up standing in front of him, peering up at him. "You're _gorgeous_. Of course you won't turn into a pumpkin. That doesn't really happen as much as people think."

"I only ever knew that it happened once, to some blonde girl with glass shoes." Even as Brad's more solid, it makes him, naturally, more _real._ More substantial. And Cassidy has to stop himself from grabbing Brad's wrists and pulling him in. The urge is _right there._ So he smiles, takes a step back, and pockets his keys. "_Now_ we can go." After you, faerie king.

As they walk, Brad is looking down at his feet. Click-clock! The heels on the floor. Nifty! And easily enough, he loops his arm through Cassidy's arm. That's what they do, after all, right? Two fabulous looking dudes going out! Such a human thing, to dress and feather oneself and parade before drinking. But fun! "Where are you taking me?"

"Vanguard." Cassidy pulls his camera out and turns it on, but before he hits record, he raises an eyebrow at Brad. Will he show up? Can Cassidy film him? It'll give him something to look at when Brad's off being a many voweled name somewhere else. "You look gorgeous, by the way. I'm just dressed up."

Ooh. There will be a myriad kind of hell to pay, but Brad's come this far already, right? So he snugs his chest up against Cassidy's arm and he _smiles_. "Hello, world!"

"This!" Now Cassidy's recording, the camera tilted at both of them. "Is my very good friend Brad. Say hi, Brad! We're going to Vanguard tonight because he's seriously never been there. But I'm not going to record in there because that's weird and you don't want to see me dancing." He cocks his head to look at Brad. "Do you dance? Do you like to dance? Do you _want_ to dance? The entire YouTube world is dying to know." What the entire YouTube world doesn't know is how Brad's smile makes Cassidy's heart speed up and his stomach twist.

"I am a _very_ good dancer," Brad informs him and the world. "Very light on my toes!" Wink! "Hello," he tells the little camera device-thing. "Cassidy's friends. Cassidy is going to be a superstar, isn't he? And don't let him tell you he can't dance. He's very good."

"Oh, when have you seen me dance?" Cassidy turns the camera so he's the only one in the frame. "He's my very own twinkerbell. Brad Bell, introduce yourself properly." The camera flashes back to Brad, and Cassidy tightens his arm around him. Even human-sized, he's so _tiny._

"You just introduced me. I don't need to again, clearly. Do I need to remind you of _that_ night again, mmm?" And there Brad goes winking again. Being human is _fun!_ "Is this the club we're going into?" He asks, looking up into the neon lights. "Shiiiiny!"

That makes Cassidy _laugh_, and the last thing on the video is him gathering Brad up outside the lights of Vanguard and hauling him in for a hot, open kiss. For the cameras. Then, Brad's cover is paid, Cassidy's camera is pocketed, and they're ushered into a club that's black and neon and stroboscopic with music.

It's quite overwhelming for a little ole faerie. That and the kiss. Wooooooof. Brad keeps touching his mouth with his free hand as he looks around. It's crowded too! And he gets jostled and squeaks each time. "Everyone is so _pushy!_," he exclaims, loudly. "They should be lucky I'm human."

"I'm okay with keeping that luck to myself," Cassidy grins, keeping Brad nice and close so they can weasel up to the bar. "What do you want to drink?" It's a good thing he didn't attach the wings; it's so packed in here that they'd just get squished, and that, fashionistas, is a waste of talent. And lots of work. He can still taste Brad from the kiss, so Cassidy orders himself a strawberry martini.

"I will have what _he's_ having," Brad tells the bartender who doesn't bother speaking over the noise. Then Brad can just hold on to Cassidy's arm and look around. Things are different from this perspective! Usually when he's out like this, he's wee, you know. "It smells like human intercourse," he informs Cassidy.

"Fucking," Cassidy corrects, paying the bartender and handing Brad his martini. Human intercourse, how _cute_ is that? "And people fuck here. Of course, they try not to make it obvious, because public sex is illegal and all." He turns Brad away from the bar, each holding their drinks, and finds a loveseat for them to lounge in. "Blowjobs, mostly, and probably some toilet-stall sex. It happens like you wouldn't believe."

"Oh, no, I'd believe it." And look! Brad looks nearly angelic as he says it, taking a sip of his drink. Oooh, tart and sassy! Brad folds his legs up under him leaning in close to Cassidy so he can ask, "have you _fucked_ here, Cassidy? Been the recipient of a blowjob?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know!" Which is Cassidy's way of taking the fifth amendment on _that_, thank you very much. His arm drops across Brad's shoulders as he tips up his martini glass. It _is_ sharp, and underneath there's that strawberry that's not quite as real as how it tastes on Brad's skin. With vodka and strawberry liqueur in his system, Cassy pulls Brad in to lick the side of his neck. Just to compare! Besides, Brad's on his level now, and it's not Against The Rules anymore, right? Cassidy hopes.

Under the thrum of the music, there's a gasp and a purr and Brad tilts his head back, staring up into the lights that move around and shine in different places. Oh, it's still against the rules, cross-kind fraternization, but Brad has, for the moment, decided that he doesn't care. It's not the first time. Look at that! He's got a hand in Cassidy's hair!

Oh. So that means Brad isn't saying no, so maybe that means there _aren't_ rules when he's like this! But... what would change? If something happens tonight with them, everything else will change. It's not supposed to be like this, as much as Cassidy _wants_ it. But he can't stop himself from kissing down Brad's throat, humid and soft-mouthed, and running a hand down his side to slide back around Brad's waist.

"Is this making out?" Brad asks, his eyelids feeling heavy. He fists his hand in Cassidy's hair and pulls his head back to get an answer to the question. Are Brad's cheeks flushed? They feel warm. "Is this that?" He's breaking _so many_ rules, good gracious and Phoo! "Are you getting turned on?"

Brad's questions take a second to register, and then Cassidy pulls away, looking stunned and pretty damn embarrassed. Yes, he's getting turned on. He _is_ turned on. "I'm... I keep not thinking. You can't. And I _shouldn't._" He polishes off the last two mouthfuls of his martini and nods to the dancefloor. "Come on, let's see how you dance, twinkerbell."

~~

It still might feel like those lights are flashing in Cassidy's eyes when they get back to his loft. There were ... at least eight of those strawberry martinis, two beers and something called a purple nurple in there. For a human who's drunk so much, he's remarkably agile; Brad is impressed. "I told you," he says, steering Cassidy toward his bedroom. "You can't outdrink fae."

"You! You have to admit, I did really, really well. We should ustream. I want to tell everyone what an awesome night I had." Cassidy's got his arm around Brad's shoulders, and he kicks his shoes off. "I wonder if there's anything to eat?" But they're already in the bedroom, and there's a sudden, blinding urge to kiss Brad again, to taste real strawberries instead of sticky sugar-sweet liquor. The beer had helped with that, but still. Brad. Is _here._ And he looks gorgeous. "Do you want to be in my graphic novel? You could be... The Lover."

"You are not allowed to Ustream drunk again. There is very little else you can reveal to the world. Mystery is good. Lie down." Brad's smile, though, is sweet and gentle. "I'll even make it so that you don't wake up with a hangover. This is how good I am to you. Make sure to make me taller if you put me in your book, mmmkay?" He urges Cassidy down to the bed and the last thing Cassidy remembers for sure is that smile.

But there are snatches of a dream that are so _vivid_ that he can't ever be sure. Brad, over him, straddling his hips, hands splayed on his chest as he moves, head thrown back. Brad's _mouth_ against his, urging him to move _harder_, _faster_, oh, yes, _deeper_. Brad's back curving against Cassidy's chest, his hands fisted in the covers as he purrs out his pleasure.

Cassidy wakes up with a start, and the first thing his hands do is make sure that the sheets don't need to be changed. Oh. Uh. Looks like they do. Wow. It's been a long time since he's had a wet dream, let alone one that was that _intense._ He's almost surprised when he rolls over and Brad isn't there, and more than a little disappointed. Frowning, he gets out of bed and pulls on a pair of shorts (of course, his luck would have that he gets all sexy in his subconscious the night he goes to sleep ~~hammered~~ naked), and tries to figure out what happened after the two of them left Vanguard, because the recording ends with the kiss, out front. They'd danced, and he remembers doing a shot, maybe two, and he'd kissed Brad more than he should have. Which might explain the dreams.

It might. But does it? As it happens, Cassidy doesn't seem Brad for a week, then two weeks, then even three weeks. Of course, there's no telling if he's actually there - those Faeries are sneaky! But there's no concrete sign that Cassidy's twinkerbell is in existence at all.

_@cassidyhaley: once again, I think I'm in love, and once again, it slips away through my fingers._ But he still works, keeping up with his Army, staying in the studio, getting ready to release the album on iTunes first, and if it does well, they take those numbers to the record labels. Having his own label is fine and great, but some financial backing would be awesome. It doesn't feel the same with Brad singing in his ear or nibbling on the jasmine when he's alone. Because now he's _alone_, with no company at all (Rawn, Blaise, you guys totally count as company, but you're not Brad. No offense).

When Barbie orders in Chinese one night and the fortune cookies are passed around, Cassidy's says _The one you love is closer than you think._ Blaise leans over his shoulder to try to read it, saying something about how his isn't even a fortune.

Cassidy backhand-swats him, folding the fortune in half and sticking it in his breast pocket. So he hasn't been abandoned, that's a good start. But where's Brad _been?_ And why send a message this late? It's been _weeks._ "I'm gonna eat the rest of this in my room. I've got a song idea." Which also means that Blaise can't snoop at his fortune again. Dick.

He grabs a box of half-full chow mein and his chopsticks and goes into his bedroom. Immediately, the food's forgotten as Cassidy's fingers come down on the keys of his piano, chords, a lot of minors. "...the world doesn't need another love song..."

One of the leaves from the jasmine plant comes loose and flutters down to land on one of Cassidy's hands as he plays before sliding to the floor. Then another, and another, but otherwise, the room is silent under the music.

The first time Cassidy finishes the song, he picks up the leaves and puts them across where sheet music would sit. Then he plays it again, smoother, a little bit different a other ideas come to him, different progressions. But the words that come to him are the same. About being in love and knowing it's futile, but not caring. The third time is the same as the second, but even smoother, and he moves a little as he plays. Because he _feels_ it.

"Pretty!" he hears. But instead of Brad's cheerful chirp, it's said in a whiskey drawl and perched on the edge of the jasmine's pot is another faerie with vivid red hair. "What's it called?"

So. That's what happened. Brad got himself replaced. Cassidy _knew_ that kissing him was a bad idea, but... he couldn't help it. "I'm not sure how to pronounce the title yet. It's got a lot of vowels." An expression quirks across Cassidy's lips that tries to be a smile, and he holds his hand up for Blazing Crimson to step on. "Who're you, now?"

"You can't pronounce my name either," she tells him with a shrug and a smile, waving his hand away for the moment. "I go by Alli though. You're not supposed to fall in love with your faerie, you dork. What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking I shouldn't fall in love with my faerie, dork. Nice to meet you, too. Help yourself to the jasmine." Cassidy gets up from his piano, leaving Alli to hang out at the plant. "I can't help how I feel, though. It's not like I said to myself 'you're going to fall for something that's a) not even human and b) totally unattainable', because I like being miserable." Cassidy pauses, picking up the box of Chinese to pick at it. "Sorry. Not your fault. I just totally went queer on you there."

"I'm used to it. I work for your friend, usually." Alli laughs ruefully. "He's a good guy most of the time, but Phoo, he gets moody, sometimes. Anyway. You don't really like being miserable. That's funny you made that joke. But the song you were writing is pretty. I like it!"

Do _all_ of you faeries know Adam? God." Cassidy laughs, using his hip to shush over some drawings on a chair so he can sit down. Phoo. A strange thing to hear in that tone. Alli's voice is low and rough, Brad's was high and light, and that's what he's used to. Phoo. "Well, I figure it's good to have a sense of humour about the things that suck in life. And thank you. Should I play it again? Should I put it up for the Army to hear?"

"You need to learn to keep some things to yourself. I heard about you. You put your behind on your camera!" And Allison titters out a laugh, leaning far enough over to nearly fall off her perch. "Why wasn't it hairy like other behinds?"

Alli's not Brad, but she's cute as a button and the way she talks is hilarious. "Is _your_ behind hairy? I just... groom. I take care of things and make sure they look as good as they can." He wants to ask her where Brad is, what he's doing, or if he's going to come back. "Besides, I think I've got a pretty nice behind. Don't you think?"

"As far as human behinds go, yours is very nice," Alli tells him nodding. But she doesn't say anything else, instead cocking a tiny finger for Cassidy to come closer. She's got a _secret_.

The box of Chinese is set down again and Cassidy comes over so he's face to face with his new faerie. She doesn't smell like strawberries, though. She kind of smells like peaches. With a raised eyebrow, he waits for her to tell him that secret. It's no secret that yeah, as far as human behinds go, his _is_ very nice, so that can't be what she called him over for. There's a flash of pathetic hope that it's something about Brad.

He's in luck! "He got in trouble," Alli whispers to him, hand cupped around her mouth. "He broke the Rules. He breaks the rules _all the time_, but with you, he _really_ broke the rules. So, for what it's worth, it's not like he _deserted_ you. We're flighty, not mean. Well, we can be mean, but this wasn't mean. You know?"

For going to the club. That's what it was, right? Or letting Cassidy kiss him. Hah, for letting Cassidy _make out_ with him. Then Cassidy has A Thought. What if that dream wasn't a dream? What if that's what they did that got Brad in so much trouble? "Will he come back?" Cassidy whispers back, careful not to breathe Chinese-food-breath all over Alli.

"I don't _know_." The faerie is very earnest. "It depends on what kind of mood the queen is in, you know? She's ... well, she's ... " Eyes wide, she shakes her head. "I mean, it's not like other fae haven't done what he did. I mean _I_ never have, but phoo! At least he never showed himself to you without his glamor. Then he'd _never_ come back." Complete with a shudder.

"No, I made sure to turn around when he had his clothes off." But Brad had had his clothes off, if Cassidy's dream wasn't really a dream. Was his glamor off, too? He doesn't remember Brad looking like anything _but_ Brad, but he's not sure what a glamor would cover, either. "If you tell me your queen's name is Titania, I will seriously eat that jasmine myself." Cassidy cocks his head to the side, looking at Alli. "You wouldn't be able to put in a good word for me, would you? I mean, he's... he's helping me, you know?"

"I'm nobody, sorry." And Alli looked sincerely sad, too. "How'd you know her name? Oh, that's right. That Shakespeare guy. You can't eat jasmine, silly!" But her teeny hand pats his knuckle. "Just don't be too sad if it doesn't work out, okay? You're cuter when you smile."

"I can never say that I didn't try." Cassidy smiles at Alli, because he's cuter when he smiles, yep. "I'll play it again for you. You can tell me your favourite parts. Okay?" And for his troubles, he gets a vigorous nod and a bright smile.

~*~

It turns out Alli's a pretty good faerie, all things considered, though she doesn't show herself nearly as often as Brad had. But things get done, even finding funding to get the tour bus when it comes time. They pull out of LA on April 4th with everyone on board. Rawn's playing the accordion, even. It's fitting.

Sleeping on the bus, however, is a whole other matter. For one, it's loud. Secondly, the mattresses are _hard_. Cassidy's woken up when the bus goes over a pothole - ba-_dunk!_, and he breathes out an exasperated sigh, looking up at the dark ceiling of his bunk. Rawn snores, and that doesn't help, either. Cassidy can _hear_ him.

"You should've brought ear plugs. You packed a bajillion t-shirts, why didn't you bring ear plugs?"

Surprise! Look! It's a Brad! Who's suddenly lying on top of Cassidy in the bunk, life-size and everything. "Hey, stranger. Miss me?"

No. Way. "Hi," Cassidy whispers, brows furrowed together, a puzzled smile that says he can't quite figure out if he's _honestly_ awake or not. "It was the bump that woke me up. I _am_ awake, right? You're here?" His arms cross over Brad's back, pulling him right up close, and he _feels_ like he's here. He smells like he's here, tart and sweet and fruity all at once. Cassidy kisses him. Yes, he missed Brad.

"You're going to get me trouble again," Brad tells him, lip to lip so that Cassidy can _feel_ his smile. "You don't know how much groveling I had to do to get _this_. I _prostrated_ myself like you wouldn't _believe_."

"Was it real?" Cassidy asks, bringing a hand up to palm over Brad's hair. "Was it a dream?" He's got some witty comeback about how he'll show Brad prostration (or maybe that's prostation, if that's even a word), but the very fact that Brad's _here_ is something he doesn't want to let go of, yet. He can't help but kiss that smile, over and over. "I didn't think I'd get to see you again. Alli's been filling in, and she's cool, but... she's not you."

"Shhh. I don't have much time. You weren't supposed to remember that, by the way. Wily man." And suddenly, there are faerie hands under the covers, spanning along Cassidy's chest; they're warm and remarkably knowing, even as they push the the blanket down. Then there's _skin_ and a hot mouth on Cassidy's neck.

Cassidy sighs, tipping his head back, hands dragging down bare skin that feels like petals, urging Brad up against him. They don't have much time, so every second has to count, so his fingers skim down the crack of Brad's ass, teasing between, just a little. Just so he knows Brad'll say yes.

That yes comes in the form of a full-body shudder. Cassidy's shorts need to go bye-bye, kicked down somewhere by their feet. Brad scoots up Cassidy's body, so they can kiss again, as Brad reaches back, fingertips rubbing along the length of Cassidy's _hmm-hmm_.

Lube. Is there lube anywhere? Somewhere, yeah, Cassidy prefers it to spit when he's by himself, so it's _somewhere._ Oh, there, just left of his head, in his shaving bag. "Here," he whispers, nipping Brad's lower lip, and fumbles it out to spread it on his fingers. He loves the taste of Brad's mouth in the first breath after Cassidy pushes into him with his middle finger, slow and firm. When he does that, Cassidy can feel something like a warm, entirely pleasant, tingling run up his arm even as Brad gasps against his lip.

In fact, the more Cassidy touches Brad, the more tingly he feels, right down to his toes. By the time he's got two fingers in, Brad is making a low, soft trilling noise, eyes heavy-lidded.

"I wrote a song for you," Cassidy whispers between kisses, moving with Brad as if they're already doing what he's getting Brad ready for, and his other hand cups the back of Brad's head. From pulling his fingers back to wiping lube on his cock - hmm-hmm, _adorable_ \- to pushing into Brad just as drawn-out as his fingers had been is only a few motions in the dark, and then both of Cassidy's hands sit on the tiny span of Brad's hips, pushing and pulling him. Condoms are a flicker of thought, and then Cassidy reasons that they're not even the same _species_, so maybe it's okay. It feels _more_ than okay, and he groans softly against Brad's lips.

When that happens, there's a rose-colored glow to their little bunk. "_I know_," the faerie tells him in a language that Cassidy shouldn't be able to understand. For Cassidy, it feels like a series of small climaxes and they've only just _started_. Brad rears up on his hands and pushes back, taking all of Cassidy in with a bared-teeth smile.

Cassidy doesn't remember it being this intense. Hell, he barely remembers the last time at _all_. This is... it's shivery and hot and overwhelming. Brad's gorgeous, he's perfect, he's- he's all of these things that Cassidy's thrusting up into, fingers grasped _tight_. Oh god, he doesn't want to let go of this. "I love you," he says, making it _real_, telling Brad what's sat heavy in his heart. "I'm in love with you."

"_I know_." There's that curved smile again. "You broke the rules." There is no chastisement in Brad's tone, though. The bed is crappy enough on the crappy bus that the bunk creaks with what they're doing, with a pace that feels too fast and too slow all at once. Too much and never nearly enough. "I can make it so it goes and goes," Brad whispers. "Is that what you want?"

"I didn't mean to..." Dark lashes sit on Cassidy's cheeks, eyes rolled back, hands sliding up to Brad's waist, to his ribs, to his shoulders to pull him down into a blind kiss. He doesn't care that the bunk is squeaking; the bus is pretty goddamn noisy as it is, and this is _too important_ to have Cassidy caring. "Yeah," he breathes, flicking his tongue against the soft bow of Brad's lower lip. "So it goes and goes."

In what might've been an hour or three, there's no way to know, Brad is on his back, his legs tight around Cassidy's hips. His hands are in Cassidy's hair, keeping him close and he's kissing him between words that make no sense to the human ear, but clearly mean _yes_.

Cassidy's hair is damp-stuck to his temples, at the nape of his neck, and his skin has an almost silky slide to it. He's braced his weight on one elbow, keeping Brad's cock pressed between them as he rocks his hips. When Cassidy's not kissing Brad, Brad says _yes_ in his own way while Cassidy groans low against his shoulder, his neck, his ear, sounds that are shaped like _ah_ and _Brad_, in equal amounts. It feels like he's coming out of every fucking pore in his body, all of his nerve endings sizzling like fork lightning.

And so it goes. And it goes and the pink glow gets brighter and Brad's sounds get higher, sound more like a hummingbird than a dove. His time is nearly up and still the words that he murmurs in Cassidy's ear make no sense to him, but what they do is bring that pleasure he's been feeling to an undeniable crest.

All Cassidy can hear after that is the roar of blood in his ears. All he can see is Brad's face on the backs of his eyelids. All he can _feel_ is Brad, the way his body feels, the way his orgasm - for _real_, now, there's no way to mistake what was before with what's happening now - shatters through him and has him crying out against the length of Brad's neck. Is this going to be it? Is this the first real time, and the last time?

"I love you, you amazing gorgeous man. Don't you forget that. Ever. You're Cassidy Haley, bitches ... " Brad holds Cassidy's face in his hands, giving him one more kiss, one more pressed smile. "I'll be watching you."

And just like that, Cassidy is alone in his bunk on his bus somewhere in the middle of the desert.

For a moment, Cassidy thinks his heart is broken. _Broken_, not just bruised. _Shattered._ And he turns his face against a pillow that smells vaguely like strawberries to stifle something that nearly sounds like a sob. He knows why The Fool walks blindly toward the edge of the cliff, now.

Because he knows that if he steps over, there'll be someone with wings waiting there to catch him, all the while giving him a talking-to. Because Amanda Palmer? _Really?_

~~fin

**Author's Note:**

> Brad's characterization comes from the fae in Gaiman's _Sandman_ series with a few dashes of other sources.


End file.
